


Proper Exchange

by orphan_account



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Community: rotg_kink, Dom!Tooth, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:29:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch would like to have some words with Toothiana, preferably violent ones.</p><p>Then, well. He gets something else instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proper Exchange

Pitch played with the coin in his hand, toying with it before flipping it up in the air, letting it clatter to the ground.  
  
He did not see it as adequate payment for his missing tooth. The event leading up to it plays out with unfortunate clarity, and he can feel the sharp sting and hear the clatter of his misshapen tooth falling to the ice. For such a tiny and delicate hand it certainly packed a punch, it had taken a couple of weeks for the bruise along his jaw to heal. He tongues the hole in his gum absently, the wound not quite healed, probably due to his continuous picking at it. That damned fairy.  
  
The bitter anger of the rise and fall of his plan (his excellent wonderful plan) has yet to dissipate, and recalling the events makes it rise to the surface, his hand flexing into a fist.  
  
Those stupid, stupid Guardians.  
  
While he has a special hatred in his heart for each and every one of them,  his eyes fix on the coin, and he itches to deal with Toothiana before he gets to the rest of them. His nightmares may have left him weak, but he feels like he has enough energy to deal out some sort of punishment for the bird brained queen.  
  
\---  
  
Pressing his back against the wall, he peers around the corner, observing two or three Nightmares pawing at the ground and blocking the main exit. Pitch curses and quietly slinks away, checking other options. The second way out also has a fearsome guard, and the third. He sighs, sitting down, placing his chin in his hand. He was itching for revenge, and he wanted to get out and enact it before it ebbed away to dull apathy. A feeling that was slowly creeping its way to being the main default of his emotion, locked up and fading with nowhere to go. He glances up, squinting as an unexpectedly bright shaft of moonlight falls across his eyes.  
  
Ah, yes!  
  
He stands up excitedly, narrowly resisting the urge to clap his hands together with glee. Sparing a quick glance at his surroundings, he determines that he’s not being watched. He makes his way to the wall of the cave, looking it up and down. Placing one hand on the dark and jagged rock he tests his grip, before placing another hand, and a foot. The rocks provide only the smallest hand and foot holds, but with some determination he climbs a couple of feet. He looks back up to the hole in the ceiling, hoping that it will actually be wide enough to climb though. How disappointing it would be to climb 30 feet of  jagged barely there rock only to find himself stranded at the top. He breathes deeply, trying to clear away thoughts of doubt.  Focusing on the matter at hand, he pulls himself up.  
  
\--  
  
Tooth hovers, directing a series of chittering fairies, quickly turning around to direct another group. She sighs, tilting her head until she hears a satisfying crack of bones popping. A third group hovers in front of her expectantly, knowing the schedule and routine that has been followed for years and years. She smiles at the waiting group, looking forward to what came next.  
  
“Okay, girls! I’m on break. See you in an hour!” She exclaims sweetly, waving at the tiny fairies who would be temporarily be in charge. One of them goes ramrod straight, saluting at her queen, clearly understanding the importance of the matter at hand. Tooth can’t help but giggle, patting her on the head before flying away to one of the tall towers.  
  
She gracefully lands on the balcony on top of the tower, walking in and tossing aside the curtain that acts as a door. The room has high ceilings and large open windows, a large soft bed pressed against one wall. The bed has no frame, just a doughy mattress and dozens of jewel toned pillows, one silk sheet tossed haphazardly on top of it. Tooth collapses happily into it, snuggling into her approximation of a nest. After properly sinking in, she contemplates what to do with the rest of her fifty five minutes.  
  
The two one hour breaks she gives herself every day were a luxury, so she wanted to spend them nicely. Perhaps a nap? While she didn’t need to sleep, naps certainly were pleasent. Or perhaps a book could be read? She had a small pile of children’s books that she was working her way through, hoping that by reading them she could understand the children more. The “bloody gums” incident, as the rest of the guardians had taken to calling it, proved that she may have been a little out of  touch. Maybe-  
  
“Ow!” she exclaimed in surprise, gripping her elbow. When she removed her hand, there was a smeared pinprick of blood at the center of her palm. Frowning, she began to pat the blanket, wondering what could have caused it. Feeling something under her hand, she picked it up, holding it gingerly between two fingers.  
  
Oh, Pitch’s tooth. How did it...? She looks up at the shelf that previously held it, and supposes that a strong gust of wind could have blown it into her bed. She lets it roll into palm, examining it.  Tooth didn’t really know why she still possessed the cursed thing. Going by the mark of her trade, she had payed for it, it was hers.  Remembering her fist on Pitch’s face sends a wave pleasure through her, the look of shock on his face equally delicious.  
  
Righteous pleasure. Because of her fairies. No other reason.  
  
Besides, she thinks while shaking her head to dispel those strange thoughts, was that any real reason to keep it? It’s misshapen and blacked at the root, hardly a worthy specimen for her personal collection. She walks over to a window, pushing the glass open. Looking down, she can see a long drop, and looks back to the tooth. Pulling her arm back, tooth in hand, she readies herself. Does she really want a part of Pitch in her own personal space? It would be better if it wasn’t there to remind her. Her arm doesn’t move.   
  
Come on, she chides herself, you really don’t care about the tooth. Just throw it!  
  
Her arm muscles flex in anticipation, her arm flying forward as the grip on the tooth is almost released and flung out into the air, and--  
  
THUMP!  
  
Tooth’s head spins to follow the noise,  her arm hanging the window with the tooth still in her grip. A mass of shadows collects at the corner of her room, part of the mass slumped onto the floor. It quickly gets up to collect itself, brushing dust off its cloak.  “Rough landing. No matter,” chuckles a deep and smooth voice.  
  
Tooth’s eyes narrow. “Pitch,” she hisses, bringing her arm back into the room and dropping the tooth onto the floor. She could deal with it later.  
  
“My lady,” Pitch says with a mocking bow. He looks up, with a grin that makes Tooth shiver, hating the way his fear makes her body betray her.  
  
“I believe,” Pitch says while taking a slow, deliberate step. “That payback is in order. And you’re first.” He smiles endearingly, but the effect simply makes Tooth sick to her stomach. “Don’t you feel special?”  
  
Tooth dashes forward, fist raised. “Get out of my home!” she growls, swiping at him. He ducks and moves behind her, still grinning.  
  
“Now now Toothiana, can’t you do a little better than that?”  
  
Slow tendrils of shadows work their way around Tooth’s ankles, and the feathers that touch them fluff out in agitation. She jerks away from them and moves upward with a buzz of her wings, turning around. Before the shadows can make contact again she dives for a sword decoratively hanging on her wall, yanking it as the metal keeping it place pops out with a clatter. By the time she turns around to face Pitch, he’s gone. For a brief, tense moment she hovers, sword in hand. The small scuffle of noise behind gives him away,  and she whips around to attack the offending presence.  Pitch gives out a small noise of pain as she pins him to the ground, her knees on either side of his ribcage, on hand on his shoulder, the other hand holding the sword to his throat.  
  
“Now now Pitch, can’t you do  a little better than that?” she says with a cocky grin.  
  
He snarls, trying to move, only succeeding in having the blade cut a sliver of a wound across his throat. “It’s hardly my fault,” he mutters. “I’m still weak. Thanks to your Guardians.”  
  
“Well then,” she says while pressing down the sword,  “Maybe you should have thought of that before you went and attacked me first.”  
  
Pitch grimaces, trying to move again. “Careful. Can’t afford to keep your guard down.”  
  
Shadow limbs rise up from the dark corners, wrapping around Toothiana’s shoulders and pinning her upper arms. She let’s out a startled cry of surprise as they pull her backward, allowing Pitch to get off the floor and stand up.  
  
“Ah, much better-” he says before being interrupted by Tooth’s sweeping leg. His breath goes out in a loud huff as his back hits the floor, the surprise loosening the shadow’s around Tooth.  She quickly throws them off, standing and moving quickly to the curtains covering the window. They’re harshly pulled open, the resulting sunlight spilling onto the shadows.  They wilt and dissolve under the harsh rays. She turns around, glaring.  
  
Still on the ground, Pitch has to crane his neck to look at Toothiana. She grabs him by the collar of his robe, yanking him up harshly. “Just what the hell are you playing at?” she asks harshly, moving in close to his face. “You know you’re too weak for this so, why even bother? Why?”  
  
He stares back, face blank.  
  
“Answer me!” She growls. yanking his hair harshly until they’re practically nose to nose. He can’t help the small moan that escapes his lips.  
  
She immediately lets of his hair, eyes widening. “Did you just-- Are you getting off on this?” she asks, voice equal parts horror and fascination.  
  
He looks offended at the very notion, but he can’t hide the dark blush that spreads across his cheeks. “What!? No!” he scoffs.  
  
She looks dubious, tilting her head. “Really? So, your only motive for coming up here was for revenge? Regardless of the fact that, in your current state,” her hands grips his face, nails digging into the grey skin. “I can defeat you this easily?”  
  
“Tooth, please,” he mutters, squirming with something other than discomfort.  
  
“Because, I think...” she says while her fingers travel down to his neck, scratching lightly. “I think you like being hurt.”  
  
“This is ridiculous. You’re jumping to horribly wrong conclusions, listen, let me go,” he says with anxiety creeping into his voice, trying to get away.  She keeps him well pinned.  
  
“Why should I let you go? Are you forgetting who you are in this situation? You came here, attacking me. And I really should be calling the rest of The Guardians...” she says, pressing her lips into a flat line.  
  
“So why haven’t you called them? Really, you’ve had ample time,” his eyes narrow, and he allows a small smirk. “Hm, do you really think I’m the only one getting anything out of this? You’re right, I haven’t forgotten who I am in this situation. This close, I can feel your fear radiating off you in waves. You like hurting me, don’t you? And that scares you, doesn’t it? You’re supposed to be the bright and bubbly fairy, helping the children of the world. You’re not supposed to be getting off making another man cry out in pain--”  
  
“Shut up!” she growls, the hand on his throat tightening. Then she pauses, considering. “Wait, did you just admit you like this?”  
  
“Maybe I did,” he says, shoulders raising as his defences go back up.  
  
“Well then. Where does that leave us?” She leans forward, inches away from his face. “We seem to be in a unique situation.” She leans closer, taking in the detail of his face and the way his eyes dart around, breaking the rest of his cool composure. “Wouldn’t it be a shame to not take advantage of it?”  
  
“I suppose--” he begins before he’s cut off by Tooth darting forward, capturing his lips. She works his way into his mouth quickly, her tongue moving against his (but she avoids any contact with his teeth).  She bites his lip harshly, eliciting a groan from Pitch. Suddenly she stops, pulling away.  
  
“Wait. Let’s get off the floor,” she says while pulling him up. Tooth leads him to her bed and pushes him down. leaving him to look up at her as she gets back to straddling him. This time she moves away from his mouth, kissing down his neck and biting at she pleases. She licked a hot stripe of saliva at the base of his neck then bit down, hard, drawing blood. Pitch gave a strangled cry and clutched at Tooth’s shoulders, fingers pressing harshly into the feathers.  
  
“Ow!” she exclaimed, leaning back and swatting his hands away. “Who said you were allowed to touch me as you please?”  
  
He swallowed thickly, his voice rasping as he stuttered out a “Sorry”. Toothiana was almost charmed at the stutter, something uncommon for the Nightmare King and his constant, eloquent stream of words. She smiled briefly before leaning over and grabbing the silk sheet underneath them. Holding it up, she tugged hard until the sheet had ripped into one long strip.  
  
“Sit up.”  
  
Pitch did as he was told, surprising himself. The rational part of his brain was screaming at him, wondering what the hell he was doing.    
  
Kill her! It screeched. Kill her, smash her delicate face in, tear off those thin fluttering wings and leave her broken and sobbing.  Tooth leans over him, grabbing his arms and crossing them behind his back.  Hell, all he would need to do right now his snap his teeth over he jugular.  Her defenses were down, and this would be a perfect time to take advantage of her. Why wasn’t he doing this?  
  
Then he feels his shoulder blades being pulled back  as the fabric binds his wrists, secure and unyielding. Tooth pushes him back again, grinning wickedly before leaning over to nip at his collarbones.  
  
Ah yes, that’s why. He was stupidly, horribly turned on by this. Nice to know that a pretty face (a pretty face that seemed right at home digging her teeth into neck, sure to leave a deep and discolored mark) could leave him rendered so helpless. How long had it even been, anyway? Since someone had touched him like this-- (she rakes her trim but surprising sharp nails  down his chest and oh my god he didn’t know he could be this hard he’s trying to think he was going to say something--) he groans, arching his back as he hisses quietly in pain.  
  
“You seem,” he says breathlessly as she pulls open his robe,  “Eager. How long has it been? I can only assume your work ethic does not lend itself well to free time and, ah, extracurricular activities.” Her eyes have a predatory look as she looks over his bare chest, before flicking up to stare at his face.  
  
“Well, you know. A while.” Maybe she was moving faster than usual. Normally, sex was never high on her list of priorities. While she has had her suitors over the years, charming sprites and handsome spirits, they always left her-- lacking. She wanted to be rough with them, wanted to see the tall and proud watersprite kneel on bruised knees, or see the fae with the pretty hair splayed under her as she writhed in tight bonds. But, for her, the motherly and bubbly Tooth Fairy, to ask that of someone? Please.  
  
With so much time and so little to fill it, the immortals did talk. And she did not want gossip of Toothiana, a guardian no less, and her... unusual preferences, to spread around. She did have a reputation to uphold. And the thought of  this information ever reaching the rest of the guardians (unlikely, but possible) was mortifying. No, she had her role to play.  
  
But, then, here came Pitch. She was shocked at the utter lack of guilt she possessed over hurting someone. Maybe because she felt justified-- he was the villain, after all. Or maybe it was just the fact that he so clearly enjoyed it. And while it had never crossed her mind before, she had to admit, he was... attractive. Ignoring his teeth, she could certainly admire the cut of his cheekbones, and the lean muscle of his chest (which was so, so pretty with angry dark lines down the expanse of it). And oh, he sound absolutely wrecked. Who knew she could be so turned on Pitch, the King of Nightmares. Of all people.  
  
And out all the partners she had been with, there was an underlying thrill she had never really experienced before. It made her want to push further, see how much she could bend Pitch to her whims, how much he could take. It was exhilarating.    
  
But biting and sucking (bruising, scratching) could only entertain her for so long. And, Pitch was getting desperate. She liked the look on him, wished that she could keep him waiting, but she also liked the feeling of being fucked senseless.  
  
Pushing away his robe as far as it could go without untying his wrists, she let it pool around his sides. His pants were tight, and the focus of his desperation was obvious as it tented the front of them. She hooked her fingers into the waistband, pulling them down an inch at a time.  
  
Pitch’s face was crossed with genuine anger. “Tooth, if you don’t fuck me right now,  horrible  things will be wrought,” he hissed as he squirmed, wanting any sort of friction he could find.  
  
“Oh, shut up,” she murmured, leaning forward for a kiss and biting his lip, hard.  
  
Blood slowly welled up on his bottom lip, and he absently licked it as his pants were finally pulled down to his calves.  
  
“You don’t wear underwear?” she asked with a giggle. It sort of ruined the atmosphere, but couldn’t stop herself from asking.  
  
He leveled her with his best look of indignation. “You know, that hasn’t always been the cultural norm. Besides, couldn’t I be asking why you don’t wear clothes?”  
  
“Hm, true,” she relented, positioning herself over his hips.  
  
“Quite indecent, really. Honestly, I’ve meant to ask why you don’t. But I always figured the conversation would end in me being beheaded and-- oh. Oh my god,” moaned, bucking his hips as Tooth sank her warmth onto him.  
  
“Oh, Tooth, Tooth,” he continued as she began to rock up and down on him, her feathers brushing his thighs with every movement she made. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she leaned forward, gasping. She was, he could not deny, absolutely lovely like this. Her face was flushed, the soft pink feathers serving as her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks as she closed her eyes in pleasure.  
  
Minutes pass full of gasping and Pitch’s endless stream of chatter, until she leans forward, their foreheads touching. “If you don’t shut up, ah, I’m going to-- ngh, gag you,” she whispers menacingly. He nods in turn, although he almost wishes disobedience so he could be bossed around by her more. He finds it unexpectedly attractive.  
  
“Pitch,” Tooth moaned, leaning back while keeping her nails embedded in the grey skin of his shoulders. “Ah,” she gasped. She was-- how could she be this close already? It felt perfect, wonderful. It built inside her, the pleasure spreading through her until, finally, (although it had only been minutes it had felt like hours and days) her orgasm hit her hard, her arms trembling as she began to slow down.  
  
“Tooth, Toothiana,” Pitch managed to choke out. “I’m-- ah, I’m going to come--  
  
She slides off him as he arches his back, muttering a stream of words that are too low for her to hear. Eventually he comes down, shaking. He slumps on the bed, breathing heavily.  
  
“Turn over.”  
  
He rolls onto his side, feeling  her soft hands brush his skin occasionally as she unties the fabric from his wrists. He didn’t quite realize how strained his arms were until the relief of them being free rushes through him. He goes moves to laying on his back and stretches his arms forward. There are red and angry marks on his wrists, and he is surprised by Toothiana leaning forward to lightly trace over them with her fingers. There is a strange mark of pride in her eyes as she does this, a gleam that sends a shiver down his spine. He abruptly pulls them away from her, using them to prop himself up as sits forward on the bed. Looking down at himself, he sees that he’s a mess. There are scratches and bruises beginning to form on his chest on down the length of his arms, and cum splattered on his stomach. As well as the sheets. (He’d apologize, but there is already a large chunk ripped  out of the side of them, so Tooth can’t care that much.)  
  
“Well,” he says after the pause of silence, after their breathing begins to return to normal. “That was--Oof!” he exclaims loudly as he’s pushed off the bed onto the floor.  He’s about to to ask her what the she thinks she’s doing, when she covers his mouth with her hand.  
  
“Shh!” she exclaims quietly, turning her to look behind her. There’s urgency in her eyes as goes back to facing him. “It’s one of my fairies! Quick, under the bed!”  
  
He offers a huff of protest, but does as he’s told. Although, he doesn’t even want to think about what he looks like right now, with his pants around his knees and his robe half-off, crawling on the floor. He awkwardly wedges himself under the low bed. Toothiana goes to a far corner, near the window, he believes,  to chatter with the fairy.  
  
“Yes, my hour is up, thank you for notifying me! Oh, nothing was really keeping me, I just took a nap-- overslept. Could you give me a couple more minutes? Be down in a sec! Thank you dear, I won’t keep the girls waiting!” she says all rays and sunshine. Theres a whoosh as curtains close, and buzzing as she hovers to the bed. “Okay,” she says from somewhere above him, “You can come out now.”    
  
He crawls out, straightening his robe as he does so. His pants have already been pulled back up, and he feels a little more... normal. Not like he just fucked the enemy.  
  
As he stands up, Tooth eyes him warily. “Now, I hope you understand that this doesn’t change the basics of our dealings with each other. With what just happened.  
  
“I’m familiar with a one-night stand, Toothiana,” he scoffs as he slicks back stray hairs.  
  
“I know, I know, it’s just... I want you to know that it’s nothing personal, that I still have to fight you. This tryst doesn’t mean you get a free pass for villainy or anything.”  
  
“I understand,” he grumbles and closes the front of his robes, hiding the worst of what just transpired.  
  
“Although,” she says with a mischievous grin, tilting her head. “It doesn’t have to be one night- or one afternoon, only. If we get frustrated, maybe we could do it again? If I’m more prepared, I could use all kinds of fun toys.”  
  
He swallows, eyes widening. “I’ll--” he clears his throat, his voice coming out huskier than intended. “I’ll consider your offer, Tooth. Goodbye.”  
  
With a wave he opens a portal in shadowed corner, seemingly disappearing into the black. Wherever he goes, it won’t be home. Not until he arranges some pest control.  
  
After he’s gone, Tooth walks the window she was at earlier, before the whole crazy mess happened. Bending over, she picks up the discarded tooth. She looks over it, smiling.  
  
Maybe it was good enough for her personal collection after all.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I totally copped out when it came to the smut... ha... 
> 
> (Reposted to a new account because there are friends who know of my main one, and... they don't need to see this.)
> 
> Also I have yet to find a Beta, so I hope there aren't to many mistakes!


End file.
